


we'll get them someday

by tattedmariposa



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: F/F, Introspection, Misunderstandings, Unrequited, between games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattedmariposa/pseuds/tattedmariposa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Mad King's War, Jill is ready to go home. But for all her good intentions, Mist struggles to understand just what that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll get them someday

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a meme on tumblr, and since it turned out to be longer than a drabble I thought I'd put it here. The prompt was "things you said that I wish you hadn't." It's not particularly polished, but it's one of the first things I've actually managed to finish in forever, so here it is anyway.

"So," Mist began. She didn't look up from her lapful of flowers, handfuls of slender stems that were to be woven into wreaths and rings. "Ike says you're leaving."

In her own hands, Jill worried an unlucky blade a grass, while Mist's bare feet squirmed a little atop the blanket they shared. She had known, when Mist had asked her out this afternoon, that an interrogation was likely at hand. That still didn't make it any easier.

"I am."

Mist let it go for a moment, pausing to sort through her haphazard bouquet until she found the particular bloom she wanted, a large lavender one with a yellow center. 

"You know," Mist started again, and Jill steeled herself for what was coming. "You're amazing at what you do, Jill. You're a great soldier."

"That's… very nice of you--"

"Oh, come on," Mist did look up then, but only to snort and roll her eyes. "Since when are you so modest with me?" She stared for a moment, before turning back to her flowers. "You're great. You know my brother would let you stay with us. He'd do it in a heartbeat. But you could probably even work for the princess, if you wanted to."

Jill didn't know what to say to that. Not after she'd just announced her intentions to do otherwise.

"Or," Mist corrected herself, belatedly, "the queen, I should say."

For a long moment, Jill didn't say anything. She let Mist's pointed praise sink in while she took in their surroundings - the way the sun fell on the blanket, shadows cast by stooped trees and tall grass, the countless wildflowers they'd left growing - like maybe they could provide an easier way out of this, or show her the right words to speak.

"And. You know that no one thinks of you as just some… Daein soldier anymore. Not a single one of us."

"I do know. You've… said so before, many times." Jill tried her best to keep her voice even. "And I appreciate you saying so, Mist, I really do." 

She really did - or she had, anyway. Ashera knew that those same words had helped her through some terribly rough times. 

She also found herself wishing that Mist would stop saying it now.

"But…?"

"But what?"

"Just, you know," Mist paused momentarily in her work, shrugging her narrow shoulders. She glanced up again briefly, but her pretty face fell in a heaving sigh. "There is a 'but' after all of that, isn't there."

"Daein's still my home, Mist."

"I know that," Mist said, too quickly, unconvincing. She'd made a mistake in her weaving, Jill noticed, and watched while she corrected the placement of a tiny white blossom. "I know it is, and I know you said you want to help them, however you can. And--" Mist's voice changed a bit then, slowing and softening. "I think that's really amazing of you too. That you feel that way."

Again, Jill took her time, staring off at whatever she could to distract herself - but it wasn't a warm clearing in late spring that held her mind's eye. She thought of unforgiving winter, snow and frozen dirt, and leaving behind little else but rubble and ruined farmland in her wake. She remembered stopping to clean up debris or bury the dead or hand out rations, sometimes, to her fellow countrymen - to miserable people, broken people, people who didn't want their help but had little choice otherwise. She still wanted to find a way to give it.

She remembered that Mist felt that way too, once.

"You don't have to leave though, to do things like that." Mist shifted then, setting aside what was left of the loose flowers and carefully holding a completed wreath between her thin fingers. She scooted closer and Jill obediently lowered her head, while Mist set about making the delicate crown agree with Jill's ponytail. "There are lots of Crimeans who need help too."

"But I--" Jill paused, gingerly and self-consciously touching the flowers that rested in her hair. It was a little more uncomfortable that way, with Mist so close that she could count her eyelashes, if she so desired. There was no avoiding her questions now. " _I'm_ not Crimean." 

"Couldn't you be, though?"

She watched Mist lowered her eyes again, twirling a smaller braid that she'd earlier set around her ring finger, soft features set in concentration laced with a little worry. And Jill did think, sometimes, that maybe she could be happy making a new life in Crimea. More than she'd ever tell Mist, because she was sure it would only make things harder for both of them. She'd had enough of saying the wrong things for quite a while. 

She wondered right then too, if perhaps she could be happy with it. With a life in this country, with its people, with Mist's pretty brown eyes and her simple kindness. But she looked at her own fingers, still bruising up the same bit of grass, dirt under her nails from helping Mist sort through grass and weeds to find the right flowers. It made her mind wander again, back to the war and her country, back to its people-- 

_Promise me, milady… you must survive. Because we're gonna live. Even if we have to eat mud and weeds, we'll do it._

Maybe she could be happy in Crimea, but Jill didn't know that it even mattered anymore. Maybe none of it did - because in spite of how anyone else perceived her, or how many times Mist gave her reassurances, Jill still felt like a girl from Daein.

"No," Jill shook her head, with more conviction than she'd said anything else that day. "No, I don't think I ever could."


End file.
